Four O’Clock Friday
Four o’ clock Friday I’m home at last.
Time to forget the week that’s past.
On Monday, in break they stole my ball.
And threw it over the playground wall.
On Tuesday afternoon, in games
They threw mud at me and called me names.
On Wednesday, they trampled my books on the floor
So Miss kept me in because I swore.
On Thursday, they laughed at me after the test
‘Cause my marks were lower than the rest.
Copyright: from The Poetry Chest (Oxford University Press, 2007), © John Foster 2007, used by permission of the author
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